Blue Eyes

I try constantly to see him as my historical enemy

But he’s melting me with his honesty

I like running into him casually

Blue eyes, nice smile

He always has a clever word, a humorous thought

A sexual innuendo slipped ever so innocently into conversation, as if he never meant it that way

My heart races as I try to erase the smile from my face, he’s nothing like I thought he would be.

He’s handsome and charming, helpful and selfless

His body is tight, muscular and….. white

As if I could be any more NOT me in seeing myself with someone like that!

A shameful hypocrite, dreaming of hockey games and death metal

But just the same, I see the twinkle of activism in him. Maybe it is the inner me I see beyond the natural tan of his skin. Something that makes me see him as better than them.

He doesn’t look at me like they do

He disregards my physical and sees my soul as an enlivened body, not one to balance and weigh as less or more equal, but just as a fellow soul with interests and beliefs and values, someone to hold.. deep conversations with about wheat bread and high fructose corn syrup and…

Holding off against women who think men who shave their legs are weird…

No, baby, I see that as sexy and I fantasize about silk sheets with me and you between them

Not the physical us, just our souls that appreciate calorie counters and American History X

There’s something about you that makes me hope for more with us.

More than just occasional conversationalists.

More than just, this.


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